


A Friendly Drink—The Night After They Stole an Election Job

by crayonbreakygal



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:38:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6382372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayonbreakygal/pseuds/crayonbreakygal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophie agrees to have a friendly drink with Nate after they stole the election on San Lorenzo.  Takes place during The San Lorenzo Job</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friendly Drink—The Night After They Stole an Election Job

Takes place during The San Lorenzo Job.  Everyone wants to know what happened that night.  Point of view for each.

 

A Friendly Drink—The Night After They Stole an Election Job

Sophie’s impression on what happened that night

A friendly drink, he said. Just a drink or two to celebrate democracy at its finest.  They actually stole an election. And put Damien Moreau away for good.  It felt good to work alongside Nate, be partners in crime, for real this time.  No control issues with Nate, no having to save Nate from himself so they could finish the con and go on to the next. 

Sophie looked up from her drink and noticed him smiling.  It was a real smile, not one of those smirks he got when he knew he was right, which was most of the time, mind you.  All was well with Team Leverage.

Sophie had no idea where the rest of the team ended up.  She was certain that Eliot was reminiscing with General Flores and his group. Commander? What else did Eliot not tell them about his past?  And Hardison and Parker?  Pretzels?  Code word for something she did not want to discuss with the younger members of the team.

Sophie thought Nate looked good in one of those tailored suits that fit his frame perfectly.  In the tropics, it was all about the comfort.  The linen suits looked nice on him, almost like he was on vacation.  Too bad she had to wear black and something to cover her face so as to not be recognized.  She was dead, for goodness sake.  Oh how she loved the wardrobe for this con.  The black dress was tight, short and fit her like a glove.  Mourning can be so fashionable.

“Cheers,” Nate said as they clinked glasses together.  “To the most wonderful grifter in the world.”

Sophie was so happy.  She had just stolen a country with Nate by her side.  How on earth could they top this one?  After a few drinks, they both were giddy with excitement.

“The look on Moreau’s face when they arrested him?”

“I so wish I’d been there.  Bastard deserved to be thrown in prison.  Can we take the key with us?”

That statement had Nate pouring yet another toast.

“To Moreau.  May he rot in hell.”

Sophie giggled and slammed down another shot.  Whatever it was she was drinking (she had lost track of what Nate was pouring), it was good.

“To the best damn team on earth.”

“Here, here.”

Another drink.  She’d stopped counting.  Of course, with all the toasting, they might be recognized for celebrating. Nate grabbed the bottle that they had been drinking from, plus another one, and headed off down the corridor.  She hoped that he meant for her to follow. Staggering into the elevator, she stumbled against him as it started to move.

“You weren’t going to abandon me, were you?”

“Huh?  I knew you’d follow.  I have the drinks.”

“Incorrigible.  That’s what you are.”

Sophie knew she’d feel it in the morning, but at this point she did not care.  Nate was able to actually put the key in the door to his suite, which meant he probably wasn’t as drunk as she thought he was.  She was tipsy, but not to the point where the alcohol was going to make a reappearance.  She could hold her liquor, up to a point.

“Thought it would be safer to have the party up here.  Don’t want anyone to know that Rebecca didn’t die in Michael’s arms.”

Sophie sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her shoes off.

“You do have to admit that was the best death scene I have ever performed.”

Sophie was quite proud of herself.  She hoped they were able to film it.

“A bit over the top.”

Sophie smacked him on the shoulder.

“Ouch.  Watch it.  I’m still sore where Ribera threw me up against the wall.”

Nate sat down next to her.

“I think he was just a bit ticked off at you for stealing his country.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Both took sips this time instead of downing the drink in one swallow.

“You did good, Nate. It’s probably the best con you’ve ever pulled, hands down.”

“Yeah. Felt good.” Sophie looked at Nate. Nate took his hat off and flung it to the floor.  “I do have the best damn partner in the world.”

That made Sophie feel like a queen.  There were no complaints about her ad libbing, no complaints about the death scene (much), no complaints about how she handled herself around Vittori.

“You better believe it.  That one will go down in the history books. The Devereaux maneuver.”

“What?  I thought that the Ford scheme is a better choice.”

“Oh bloody hell, Nate.  No way.”

“But you’re dead, my dear.”

“There is that.”

“Cheers to you being dead.  I mean, Rebecca being dead.”

Another clink of the glasses, another drink for the victors.

“Where’s my reward?” Sophie asked as she moved closer to him.

“Reward? Gotta tell you, not dying by Moreau’s hands, reward.”

Nate slid closer to Sophie.

“That would have sucked.”

They were touching thighs, faces mere inches from each other.

“Most definitely.”

They’d been dancing around each other for months, pissing each other off to turn the other away.  In the last few weeks though, Sophie had come to realize that if nothing happened between them after Moreau was done, then she’d not be responsible for her actions.

As Nate leaned over to her, he almost fell over, making her giggle.

“Are you drunk, Mr. Ford?”

“Most definitely.  But not too drunk to do this.”

His hand was now on her thigh, working its way up slowly.  His lips found a pulse point on her neck that he somehow knew would drive her crazy.

“How did you,” she sighed out.

“I know these things.”

Arrogant bastard, of course he did.  Throwing her hat off, Sophie helped give Nate better access to her neck and shoulder by pulling the top part of her dress down a bit.  His hand had her panting in anticipation, setting her leg on fire.  Using her hands, she slid off his jacket and attempted to unbutton his linen shirt.  Only her hands weren’t working that well, so she just popped the buttons and yanked it down.

“We just, I can’t, Sophie, oh Sophie.”

What was it about Nate that made him speechless when she was around?  When she flustered him, he babbled incoherently. 

“Zipper, Nate.”

Not taking his mouth off her neck, his hands did manage to zip her dress down at least half way.  Standing up, she slid it off, but it didn’t move more than half way because he didn’t finish the job.

“You, you don’t have anything on underneath that, do you?”

“Unzip the rest and find out.”

“Soon,” he whispered against her stomach as he pulled her in between his legs.

His mouth found its way up to one of her breasts, making her cry out.  His hands did find out whether she had underwear on.

“That dress needs to come off,” he said as he struggled with the zipper.

Reaching back, she jimmied the thing to unstick it while he decided to let her work on it while he had his fun.  It made it hard to concentrate while his tongue did wicked things to her.

“Yes,” she cheered when she got it undone.

Pushing him back on the bed, she undressed him part of the way, then fell on him as she tipped over.  The alcohol was making her woozy or was that Nate’s hands?

His shoes went flying off the bed along with his pants. Sophie wasn’t sure where his boxers were but it didn’t matter because she wasn’t waiting any longer.  She didn’t care that he still had on his undershirt.

As she sank down on him, this feeling of euphoria made her feel giddy and wonderful.  He looked up at her with feelings she had never seen him display.  Dammit, this wasn’t what they were doing.  They were friends.  Friends who were celebrating, and celebrate was what she was doing.

As she moved over him, his hands were everywhere at once, touching her in all the right places.  Only she wasn’t moving fast enough for him.  Before she could object, she was flat on her back with Nate looming over her.

“I was enjoying myself there,” she protested, only to swallow that protest as he got down to business.

Wrapping her legs around his back, she urged him forward, making him gasp as she met him stroke for stroke.  It felt good, no incredible, that Nathan Ford was screwing her brains out after the best con she had ever pulled.  It was a dream come true after all they’d been through together.

He certainly knew his way around her body, even though they’d only kissed twice.  It didn’t take much longer for her to get to where she wanted to go since they’d been in foreplay for the last ten years of their lives.  Before she could scream her release, he took her mouth with his, groaning out her name several times as he did.

“That was, um, Nate. Let’s do it again.”

Nate giggled a bit and rolled off her.

“I’m drunk and old and god, I needed that.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sophie declared as she found her way back on top of him.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“No doubt.”

 

The next morning, after Eliot barged into the room, Sophie thought it would be over between the two of them.  Their hangovers made them both squint at each other after Sophie climbed out from under the blanket.  As he smiled her way though, she thought that maybe he might just care about her, in his own way.  Drawing her to him, she sighed happily.

“Do we have time?”

“Oh dear, I’ve created a monster,” she said, giggling when his hands started to roam. “What if Eliot comes back?”

“Eh.  Let him.”

“Nate.”

“I’m ready now.”

“You were ready more than once last night.”

“I was?”

“As I said. Incorrigible.”

 

Nate’s impression on what happened that night

When he had suggested a friendly drink after putting Moreau behind bars, he thought she’d say no and leave him in a lurch.  But she was game, rubbing shoulders with him as they walked to the bar in the hotel.

He could smell her hair, like something exotic. Jasmine.  That had to be it.  He wondered that if he buried his nose in her hair she’d protest.  Pulling her wrist, he led her over to a table in the back.  His back was to the booth, while she sat directly across from him so as to not be recognized.   They shouldn’t be out drinking.  Someone might notice. Sophie loved attending her own funerals.  It was becoming a habit.

“Cheers,” Nate said as they clinked glasses together.  “To the most wonderful grifter in the world.”

The shot burned as he downed it at once, drinking to various things that they did throughout the con.  Sophie was holding her own, but he didn’t want her totally out it.  He watched as she swallowed the liquid, how her throat moved, how her eyes lit up when she thought of something else amazing that they did, together.  Yes, that was operative word:  they did this con together, as partners.  Sure, she had to improvise a few times.  He approved, after almost losing it when she said to the press that she was engaged to Vittori.

He had hoped that the presidential candidate didn’t get it in his head that Sophie would be his.  No, Nate was too possessive for that to happen.  Sophie kept Vittori on point until he won.  She played her part perfectly, down to the death scene.

“The look on Moreau’s face when they arrested him?”

“I so wish I’d been there.  Bastard deserved to be thrown in prison.  Can we take the key with us?”

That statement had Nate pouring yet another toast.

“To Moreau.  May he rot in hell.”

Sophie giggled and slammed down another shot.  Whatever they were drinking, it was good.

“To the best damn team on earth.”

“Here, here.”

He had assembled the dream team, but she had been the key.  He had chosen her, not that asshole who tried to destroy them oh so long ago.  She was the key to everything.  Sophie was the star of this con.  She pulled it off to perfection.

Another drink.  He’d stopped counting.  Of course, with all the toasting, they might be recognized for celebrating. Nate grabbed the bottle that they had been drinking from, plus another one, and headed off down the corridor.  He hoped that she knew to follow. Staggering into the elevator, she stumbled against him as it started to move.

“You weren’t going to abandon me, were you?”

“Huh?  I knew you’d follow.  I have the drinks.”

“Incorrigible.  That’s what you are.”

Nate knew he’d feel it in the morning, but at this point he did not care.  He was able to actually put the key in the door to his suite, which meant he probably wasn’t as drunk as she thought he was.  She was tipsy, but not to the point where the alcohol was going to make a reappearance.  She could hold her liquor.

“Thought it would be safer to have the party up here.  Don’t want anyone to know that Rebecca didn’t die in Michael’s arms.”

Sophie sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her shoes off.

“You do have to admit that was the best death scene I have ever performed.”

Sophie was quite proud of herself.  He hoped they were able to film it.

“A bit over the top.”

Sophie smacked him on the shoulder.

“Ouch.  Watch it.  I’m still sore where Ribera threw me up against the wall.”

Nate sat down next to her.

“I think he was just a bit ticked off at you for stealing his country.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Both took sips this time instead of downing the drink in one swallow.

“You did good, Nate. It’s probably the best con you’ve ever pulled, hands down.”

“Yeah. Felt good.” Sophie looked at Nate. Nate took his hat off and flung it to the floor.  “I do have the best damn partner in the world.”

He wanted to make Sophie feel like a queen.  There were no complaints about her ad libbing, no complaints about the death scene, no complaints about how she handled herself around Vittori.

“You better believe it.  That one will go down in the history books. The Devereaux maneuver.”

“What?  I thought that the Ford scheme is a better choice.”

“Oh bloody hell, Nate.  No way.”

“But you’re dead, my dear.”

“There is that.”

“Cheers to you being dead.  I mean, Rebecca being dead.”

Another clink of the glasses, another drink for the victors.

“Where’s my reward?” Sophie asked as she moved closer to him.

“Reward? Gotta tell you, not dying by Moreau’s hands, reward.”

Nate slid closer to Sophie.

“That would have sucked.”

They were touching thighs, faces mere inches from each other.

“Most definitely.”

They’d been dancing around each other for months, pissing each other off to turn the other away.  In the last few weeks though, Nate had come to realize that if nothing happened between them after Moreau was done, then he’d not be responsible for his actions.

As Nate leaned over to her, he almost fell over, making her giggle.

“Are you drunk, Mr. Ford?”

“Most definitely.  But not too drunk to do this.”

His hand was now on her thigh, working its way up slowly.  His lips found a pulse point on her neck that he somehow knew would drive her crazy.

“How did you,” she sighed out.

“I know these things.”

He definitely was a quick study when it came to Sophie Devereaux.  Throwing her hat off, Sophie helped give Nate better access to her neck and shoulder by pulling the top part of her dress down a bit.  Her soft skin had him panting in anticipation.  Using her hands, she slid off his jacket and attempted to unbutton his linen shirt.  Only her hands weren’t working that well, so she just popped the buttons and yanked it down.  He never liked that shirt.

“We just, I can’t, Sophie, oh Sophie.”

What was it about Sophie that made him speechless when she was around?  When she flustered him, he babbled incoherently. 

“Zipper, Nate.”

Not taking his mouth off her neck, his hands did manage to zip her dress down at least half way.  Standing up, she slid it off, but it didn’t move more than half way because he didn’t finish the job.

“You, you don’t have anything on underneath that, do you?”

“Unzip the rest and find out.”

“Soon,” he whispered against her stomach as he pulled her in between his legs.

His mouth found its way up to one of her breasts, making her cry out.  His hands did find out that she had no underwear on.

“That dress needs to come off,” he said as he struggled with the zipper.

Reaching back, she jimmied the thing to unstick it while he decided to let her work on it while he had his fun.  He decided to concentrate his tongue doing wicked things to her while she figured it out.

“Yes,” she cheered when she got it undone.

Pushing him back on the bed, she undressed him part of the way, then fell on him as she tipped over.  The alcohol was making him woozy or was that Sophie’s body?

His shoes went flying off the bed along with his pants. It didn’t matter because he didn’t want to wait any longer.  He didn’t care what article of clothing he still had on.

As she sank down on him, his mind went blank other than how right and hot she was.  She looked down at him with feelings he had never seen her display.  Dammit, this wasn’t what they were doing.  They were friends.  Friends who were celebrating, and celebrate was what he was doing.

As she moved over him, his hands were everywhere at once, touching her in all the right places.  Only she wasn’t moving fast enough for him.  Before she could object, she was flat on her back with Nate pressing into her.

“I was enjoying myself there,” she protested, only to swallow that protest as he got down to business.

Wrapping her legs around his back, she urged him forward, making him gasp as she met him stroke for stroke.  It felt good, no incredible, that Sophie Devereaux was screwing his brains out after the best con he had ever pulled.  It was a dream come true after all they’d been through together.

He definitely was a quick study, even though they’d only kissed twice.  It didn’t take much longer for him to find his release since they’d been in foreplay for the last ten years of their lives.  Before she could scream, he took her mouth with his, groaning out her name several times as he did.

“That was, um, Nate. Let’s do it again.”

Nate giggled a bit and rolled off her.

“I’m drunk and old and god, I needed that.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sophie declared as she found her way back on top of him.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“No doubt.”

 

The next morning, after Eliot barged into the room, Nate thought it would be over between the two of them.  Their hangovers made them both squint at each other after Sophie climbed out from under the blanket.  As she smiled his way though, he thought that maybe she might just care about him, in her own way.  Drawing her to him, he sighed happily.

“Do we have time?”

“Oh dear, I’ve created a monster,” she said, giggling when his hands started to roam. “What if Eliot comes back?”

“Eh.  Let him.”

“Nate.”

“I’m ready now.”

“You were ready more than once last night.”

“I was?”

“As I said. Incorrigible.”


End file.
